Perks of Being a Sorcerer
by litvirg
Summary: "Dear Friend, I am writing to you because my mom told me that she thinks it would help me to be able to talk to somebody else. Someone like me. I'm getting nervous about school tomorrow. I think that's normal though. Love always, Merlin" Or Merlin is Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Friend,

I am writing to you because my mom told me that she thinks it would help me to be able to talk to somebody else. Someone like me. I'm not sure I'm ready to meet face to face though, so I hope that you don't mind that she gave me your address, because she said that at least if I write you letters it will be like me talking to someone. You don't need to write back though. I'm okay just talking to you.

The only other person I've ever known who was like me was my friend Freya. She moved to Ealdor three years ago, when we were twelve. She had run away from home. Ealdor was a really small town. That's what everybody told me anyway, I've never been anywhere else so I don't really know the difference. But she came because at home all she had was her dad. And he was not the type of person you would want to be alone with, from what she told me. And nobody has ever heard of Ealdor.

Freya could change form. He was afraid of that, she told me. He'd hit her, or lock her away. He didn't want her to do…something. I don't know what it was he was afraid of, because Freya was the nicest person I've ever known. She ran away to Ealdor and lived with me and my mom for a year and a half.

Last school year- about a year and a half ago- Freya wasn't in her room when I went to wake her for school. I spent all morning looking, but she wasn't in the house. I was late to school that day. Around lunchtime I was called down to the guidance counselor's office to talk to one of the ladies there. They said Freya had been found in an alley outside the pharmacy, with an empty pill bottle in her hand.

I lost control of it after that. I broke windows in every room I went into just by looking at them. In her old room I broke the door and her bookshelf crumbled from the first breath I took. My eyes latched onto the bed and it was consumed in fire. I stood in there for an hour before my mother got home and saw the flames and tumbling objects.

It didn't get a lot better after that, so when the school year ended my mother got transferred from her Ealdor clinic position to one in a nearby city, Camelot, and two months ago we moved. I think she's worried now because we've been here two months and I still haven't made any friends. It's not really that easy to just move to a new place and meet people though, so I don't think it's that bad.

I start school tomorrow. I'm going to be a sophomore this year. I don't know much about Camelot, or the people who live here but I don't think there's anyone like me here. Mom says I shouldn't be ashamed of what I am, but that maybe I should keep it between us for now.

Anyway, I'm getting nervous about school tomorrow. I think that's normal though.

Love always,

Merlin


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Friend,

This school is nothing like my old high school.

In Ealdor, everybody knew everybody. Most were friends. Even if you weren't, you were nice. Here everybody seems to know just a few people and then they ignore the rest. Unless you're one of the big, mean guys. Then you don't ignore anybody, but you just glare at anyone you pass.

I didn't know that you were supposed to ignore this.

A big guy, Val I think is his name, pushed right past me, knocking all of my books out of my hand. He didn't even apologize. And then he stepped on my newest book and I just couldn't help it.

"Wanker," I muttered.

This made him turn around fast than I ever though a person of his size could. "What'd you say to me?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. Then I tried to walk away.

I say I tried because he wouldn't let me. He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the lockers.

"Listen here, you fucking poof," he said. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you or else someday it's going to land you in quite a predicament."

"At least I can spell predicament."

That was probably not the smartest thing for me to say, because then suddenly he dropped me onto the floor and was punching me. But then I looked at his feet that were about to kick me, and he missed, slipping and slamming his head onto the ground and it must have knocked him out because he didn't wake up until a couple of minutes later.

I still haven't made any friends.

Love always,

Merlin


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Friend,

I've gotten very good at hiding myself between my other classmates whenever Val comes along. He hasn't done anything since that first day, but I have a feeling he would, given the opportunity.

My classes are very easy. In Ealdor, I was a year ahead of everybody in my grade. The administrator here thought that was because it was just a little country school, and that making the transition into a city would be too hard if I forced myself into higher level classes too. I don't know what he thinks happens in sophomore level classes, but it's not much.

My philosophy teacher is great though. He told me to call him Gaius and sometimes I go to his room instead of the cafeteria, since I would just be sitting alone anyway. He gave me one of his old books to read if I had anytime outside of class. I found a bit of old magic written on the cover sleeve, and at first I was afraid to ask him about it, since mom wanted me to keep it quiet while I was still "acclimating" to my new life here, but I hadn't met anybody like me yet, and I couldn't help but ask him.

"Magic is nothing to be afraid of, Merlin," he told me. "More people would be open to it, if you gave them the chance."

So that is why he now gives me different magic theory books for me to read as homework, once the rest of the class leaves. It's not too bad though, because his class was the only one I had to work in anyway, so now at least I'm learning two subjects.

I still haven't made any friends. A girl named Gwen told me that she thought it was really brave of me not to run away from Val the other day, but I haven't seen her since, and I think she must be a senior.

I know Mum's getting worried. But it's only been two weeks.

At least I'm finally learning about my magic. I'm not as afraid of it, like I have been since Freya died.

Love always,

Merlin


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Friend,

The class other than Gaius's lessons that I like is my Creative Prose class, though we've done very little writing in it. Mostly right now we are reading short plays and poetry by men I have never heard of.

But there is this girl in my class, Morgana, and she is the most opinionated person I have ever seen. It's amazing to watch her because once she starts talking it seems as if she's only just realizing how passionately she feels about something, and then there is no stopping her.

I think she might even talk more than our teacher does.

The point is that we have only read plays and poems by old, white, Anglo-Saxon, rich guys and Morgana got all up in arms about the underrepresentation present in our curriculum, saying how we aren't actually learning about the most culturally significant poets, because history is always told from the oppressor's side.

My teacher told her that she either needed to sit down and not talk for a whole class, or she would be given extra assignments every day for the rest of the week.

Well, she didn't stay quiet, but I don't think Mr. Jenson's punishment worked out as planned.

The first night she had to write an extra poem. The second night, he made her write a soliloquy on top of all the readings. On Friday he told her that over the weekend, she had to write a short play, and that on Monday she would do a public reading of all three, and then there would be a class critique of them.

I have never seen a teacher's face turn so red during a presentation.

Morgana said they were all part of her themed series, about the tribulations of the upper class. She wrote each one from the perspective of a rich, white man who felt burdened by the "social pressures" he was under. In her play, the main character even stole artwork from a poor Hispanic woman and sold it as his own.

Mr. Jenson started bringing works written by women to class, which really only made Morgana surer of herself. Now she talks even more, which nobody thought was possible. He even started opening class by describing the day's topic and asking her if she had anything she wanted to say before we began reading.

I think she is what my mother would call a "social justice advocate."

My work with Gaius is going really well. Maybe I can send you some things from his books.

Love always,

Merlin


End file.
